Bubbling Light

All light possesses a pinnacle where it is most brilliant and a low point in which it sashays with abandonment—collapsing completely.  Light must be seized in order for it to satisfy its purpose. Illumination cannot be seen with clarity if it has fallen into a void.

Light traipses about in all directions.  It goes straight, it enters and it leaves.  It arrives and if not coupled right, it moves elsewhere.  It reflects the good and deflects the darkness.  It is harvested and spread wide.  But in a bubble, light is bent, made to refract with radiance and it cradles the elegance of light for all of its colorful worth.  A bubble at its core is aligned by the divine.

Where there is no light there is darkness, blacked out from existence altogether.  Light, in its purest form is manifest from nothing and it glows within the genesis of illumination.  The journey alone—of luminance—from its pivotal core to the outposts of obscured dimness is an escapade through the sensation of light.

If every picture tells a story, it must recognize light.  To see the light, liberates the frame of itself, due to its own accord.  It is sometimes unseen and sometimes known. But at the surface of a bubble, the light shines transparent; it is in everything that is not seen, that the dual-sided nature of a bubble comes together to form beauty.

Light is worth more than whatever a dollar amount adds up to.   There is nothing nimble in a pocket, for a deep pocket holds no light, pockets are absent of light, but the depth of a heart, well that tends to beat with love, light, and the passion of God.  For heaven is the light in your heart, it always has been and it always will be.

It is in my confidence that in my own little bubble, I employ the light for what its worth, and the spectrum of it’s color.  It’s beautiful, it’s delicate, it’s vibrant, it’s unifying, it’s load bearing, and it is gold laden divinity.  The light that I feel inside it illuminates me.  It also illuminates my surroundings and guides me in the direction I need to go.  One could almost go so far as to say, that light alone is the mother of all muses.

The theme for today is brevity.  Thanks for stopping by.

BeLove © 2018

My roots are buried in the Dirty South. I grew up learning the importance of God and Southern Charm. I began writing in my late teens mostly through heartbreak and music. I moved out west 15 years ago and live right around the corner from the Fountain Of Youth. Most people refer to it as Lake Tahoe. I play Chef during the day and search for ways to save the world by night, through reading, writing, and believing. I enjoy the side of life that is less abrasive. I look forward to joining you on my quest through Spiritual Sobriety with the Promised Land as our ultimate destination.

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